Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 2208 Words.]

Jon Snow POV

Somewhere on North.

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"What a good feeling," I thought as the energy of the battle pulsed through me, a frenzy of intense emotions. However, this satisfaction was abruptly interrupted by a colossal impact that shook my worldview. I received a punch, a powerful force that made my body recoil several meters. I didn't allow myself to faint, fall, or give up; instead, a defiant smile remained on my face.

My opponent, an imposing giant, stood at 5 meters tall, towering as the largest among all the colossi in the area. His name echoed in harmony with his feared reputation in this inhospitable land. His skin looked crumpled, and both of us were marked by blood, a visible trail from our fierce confrontation. In a moment that escaped my consciousness, I realized I was shirtless, a victim of the heat generated by the fight in the freezing cold.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins, momentarily banishing the sensation of pain. The giant's blows, which would have decapitated an ordinary man, seemed more like slaps to me. I had absorbed numerous dragon souls, strengthening my body with each devouring, and a skin spell added for extra protection against the giant.

I spat blood on the ground, a tribute to the intensity of the battle, and stared at Mag, the mighty one, with a challenging smile, ready for more.

I immersed myself in the frenzy of battles in Skyrim, where the imminence of danger, the accelerated pulse of adrenaline, and the expectation of confronting an opponent determined to kill provided an experience that, paradoxically, filled me with a unique sensation despite being fully alive. My smile, filled with expectations, lit up my face during this peculiar fight, devoid of weapons, where I exchanged punches with a giant of fists. It was a peculiar amusement, a challenging test of brute strength, where I faced powerful blows with the same intensity.

I faced my opponent with this smile, ignoring his previous punch. The giant returned my gaze, and I could discern the wild gleam of battle in his eyes, a mix of respect and enthusiasm. We were in the giants' camp, where hundreds of them cheered for our fight. The sight of a human facing a giant on equal terms surprised and thrilled them, turning the event into a feast of emotions. Tormund, though present, was stunned, his mouth open and eyes wide, betraying his inability to fully absorb the moment.

The intense atmosphere drew half of Mance's camp, with the giants roaring, shouting, and laughing, turning an ordinary day in this frozen place into something extraordinary. Among the giants, I observed several humans sharing Tormund's stunned look, most belonging to the Thenns, whose tents surrounded the area, consolidating them as the group closest to the giants.

Momentarily disconnecting from my thoughts, I fixed my gaze on my opponent with enthusiasm. We stared at each other in mutual silence, completely ignoring everything around us. After a few seconds of anticipation, we started running towards each other.

With every step I took, my heart throbbed intensely, and the world seemed to slow down. The sound of my feet hitting the ground, lifting ice and snow, echoed like a peculiar soundtrack. Perhaps not as effective as my opponent, but that didn't intimidate me; I kept running, without losing pace. As we approached, he prepared to throw a punch, leaning his arm back. Before getting too close, I leaped to match heights. Aware of the disadvantage of his long arms' reach, I accelerated my movement to surprise him.

I leaped with speed, and even with his eyes revealing surprise, the giant maintained his posture to hit me. I leaned and directed my punch to his left cheek. I felt my fist embedding itself in his face, a tough and heavy sensation, but at the same time, I was struck by another impact on the left side of my head. Both of us collided, tossed like puppets to his side. The giant flew about 5 meters before hitting the ground, while I was thrown a greater distance of approximately 10 meters, colliding with one of the nearby tables and breaking it.

A tense silence enveloped the environment, marked by an unmoving body amid the broken wood and another, belonging to the largest of the giants, fallen on the ground, also motionless, with traces of blood on both faces. No one dared to break the silence; thousands of spectators, after witnessing 10 minutes of punches and commotion in the camp, now wondered if either of the combatants had succumbed to the intense exchange of blows. Then, a sound cut through the air.

"- Hahahaha, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA," began with a weak laugh but evolved into a prolonged laughter on one side.

"- Hohohoho, HOHOHOHOHOHOHO," however, it wasn't just my voice; a deep, booming voice from the giant, which initially sounded weak, erupted in laughter.

The human and the giant, who moments before were engaged in mortal combat, began to laugh as if they were longtime friends. I slowly rose, removing a piece of wood that had embedded itself in me. Blood flowed, coloring the snow on the ground. It seemed I had broken my nose and jaw with the last punch. Silence persisted among the spectators; no sound dared disturb the moment. I observed my opponent rising too, a smile on his face. His nose was bleeding, and a black eye revealed the damage he had caused before our final attack.

I limped toward him, a satisfied smile on my face. The impact of the fight reverberated in my back; only a good night's sleep would alleviate the pain. I resorted to a small healing spell to mitigate the discomfort when it manifested. My colossal friend, standing before me, stopped. We remained there, staring at each other for about 10 seconds, until he raised his arm, displaying his fist. I understood the gesture and reciprocated, raising my arm to fist-bump, indicating that the fight had been satisfactory and enjoyable. In a sudden motion, he grabbed my arm, lifted it, and shouted.

"SNOW!"

The voices of the crowd echoed in response, like a chorus of unrestrained enthusiasm. Some chanted "Snow," others simply shouted and toasted, while the giants, in unison, reverberated my name.

"SNOW! SNOW! SNOW!"

"Seems like I made a good impression here today," I thought, satisfied.

"You're a fearless madman, you know that?" Tormund chuckled after these words.

"Maybe I am..." I replied, smiling as I tried to adjust my nose.

"I've seen a lot of madness in my life, but a man exchanging punches with a giant. By the gods, where did you come from?" He expressed respect and admiration in his words.

I looked around as the crowd celebrated the outcome of the fight, Tormund's gaze reflected the admiration shared by thousands of wildlings. Women cast lustful glances at me; I remained shirtless, showcasing defined muscles, albeit marked by bruises the size of giant fists scattered across my chest and belly. It was evident that if I let my guard down, I would be the target of their desires tonight. The adrenaline subsided, and the pains of battle and the northern cold began to manifest. I put on my coats again, realizing that it was already getting dark. Mag invited me to join the festivities tonight. With Tormund as my interpreter, I accepted.

I drank with Tormund and other members of his tribe, exchanged ideas with some giants. The drink was terrible, but still, I consumed it like any Skyrim resident. I was surprised by the quality of the alcohol they produced in that frozen desert.

When the party began, I settled next to the giant leader, Tormund by my side to mediate linguistically since I didn't understand their language. Surprisingly, Tormund shared much of my humor, and Mag also joined in our joy. I was amazed to feel so comfortable in this place. I had always heard of wildlings as relentless invaders, but I must admit, they had a sharp sense of humor. It was refreshing when people didn't want to kill you.

I shared that I was raised in Winterfell and went to a land across the sea, not to mention another world, which caused great surprise among them. I told part of my story, omitting many of the feats I accomplished in Skyrim beyond becoming a warrior in those lands. Hours of laughter, jokes, and a moon already illuminating half the sky marked the peak of the night when I finally retired, limping, after befriending dozens of giants and members of Tormund's tribe.

"I'll need to find someone to teach me the old language," I reflected while, somewhat drunk and limping, headed to Karsi's tent. I noticed that even though it was late at night, people noticed my presence and began to whisper about me. Many adults, elderly, and even children who were still awake pointed fingers at me and stepped aside to let me pass.

"I guess I've gained some fame around here," I murmured to myself, amused by the attention.

As I approached the tent, I saw the guards I had seen when I arrived. I looked at them and spoke, visibly drunk:

"Don't you guys ever rest, huh? Is Karsi in there? I need to find my wife Lucis's tent!" I exclaimed, disinterested and drunk. They were surprised by my presence there and, ignoring my question, one of them analyzed me:

"Is it true what they're saying? Are you the stranger who fought a giant?"

"Maybe I landed a punch, but I need to know where my wife is!" I mumbled, just wanting my bed at that moment. I was noticeably intoxicated, as, in addition to the punch competition with Mag, we had also tied in alcohol. "Okay, okay, I don't want to upset someone who can punch a giant. Karsi isn't here, but I'll get a boy to take you there," said the guard, calling a boy. I sighed at the curious stars in the child's eyes directed at me, aware that it would be a long walk filled with questions, as I often experienced in Skyrim. Being a Dragonborn attracts the attention of younger generations, especially those who saw me kill a dragon outside the city walls.

A few moments later, the boy, clearly excited, broke the silence:

"Is it true, the rumors about you?"

"What rumors, kid?" I replied with a tone that made it clear I wasn't in the mood for conversation, but the boy didn't notice.

"They say your mother is an ancient goddess, that you fell from the sky straight into the True North and took one of our people as your wife," he said enthusiastically.

"I wouldn't pay much attention to that," I responded curtly, thinking about how foolish someone must be to believe that.

"But they say you're immortal, that you can't be killed. Many are saying you fought a giant with empty hands and killed 50 crows before coming here," he exclaimed.

"If that were true, then I wouldn't need a shield when going to war..." I grumbled.

Finally, we arrived at Lucis's tent. The boy made the announcement but didn't leave before the last comment.

"Mag, the giant they say you faced is the biggest man I've ever seen. I would never face him!" he said, fearful at the mere mention of the name.

"That's why your name will never be remembered," I said seriously, as if all the alcohol in my body had evaporated. He looked at me, reflecting on my words. I put my hand on top of his head and shook it, messing up his hair.

"[Author here: let's see who gets the reference]."

"Now go back, boy. Thanks for the walk and for showing me this tent. Good night," I declared before entering the tent.

Upon entering, I found a boy sleeping in one corner and Lucis on another fur bed. I tried to look for a third bed. "Where's my bed in this place? Lucis, you don't expect me to sleep on the floor, do you?" I thought indignantly, retrieving my state of drunkenness.

"You know what? Screw it," I muttered to myself before throwing myself next to Lucis. She woke up when I hugged her.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"Where's my bed? I don't see one, so I'll sleep with my current wife. You should feel honored; many women wanted to marry me, but I've never been a man who tied his heart to anyone. I believe you're the first one I call a wife, even if not for real," I said, laughing.

"Oh, you're a virgin, aren't you?" I asked when I saw her shift uncomfortably in my embrace.

"That's none of your business!" She replied embarrassed.

"I'm not like those crows. I like to make women have as much pleasure as I do, but I like you better this way. Now, I'm going to sleep. Goodbye," I said before closing my eyes and dozing off.

"What are you..." She couldn't finish the sentence as I started to snore softly. She could only nestle in my arms, trying to find comfort to sleep.

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Author's note:

* Thank you in advance, I hope you have a good read.